Act IV, Scene 5

Stage Right's bright yellow limelight brightens the Jester and the tall plywood skyscrapers for all to see. I peer out at the audience through the curtain and falter; I am nervous. The House looms around me--all around--watching, judging, and I am ready for them. I have practiced this scene far too many times to get it wrong. Here is my cue. I enter Stage Left to join the Jester, who is proudly wearing the hat. The black one with the silver fish. The Director smiles behind the scenes. He knows how this one simple prop will change everything. My lines come out feverish and hurried, but well-practiced and confident. There, now, is the music, and with unusual enthusiasm I break into the dance I can still remember detesting. This is the night. By the end of the song, the hat is mine, and the Extras are loading the Jester into his cardboard coffin. The Director (who is the Jester's father) is weeping to see his art come alive, such a beautiful performance. I look out to the House. The lights blind me, creating a remarkable illusion, an audience of ghosts or else no audience at all, but I know better. They are watching. I bow and exit Right, admiring the hat which the script has made mine. Thank you, oh Playwright, for this wonderful gift! How can I ever hope to repay you? The Narrator delivers the booming response: You must don the hat now and wear it for ever, and you must never consider its removal. I now place that hat onto my head as I exit the Theatre. It was a wonderful show, indeed.

8 August 2007